


Paint Me

by Desdimonda



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Food Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 05:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2802017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desdimonda/pseuds/Desdimonda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan asks Solas to paint her. He does.... Heh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint Me

'Paint me,' she asks, drawing her hand across the wall that depicts their months as the Inquisition. There's a third of the circular room left, bare, patiently awaiting whatever may come next.  
'Paint you?' he asks from his table, pushing aside some barely legible scrolls. 'Now?'  
'Now.' She leans against the wall, slipping free the fastenings of her top, baring her chest. The gentle blue hue of the magic brazier highlights the silver flecks of scars littering her chest. His bite mark, still fresh, crowns her right breast, purple and blue; she drags her fingers across it, smiling.  
Solas glances up, seeing no eyes disturb them from above. A few feet shuffle and the crows caw, incessantly. His eyes return to Lavellan. 'With you standing like that, painting is the last thing I want to do,' he says, slowly rising from his seat.  
Lavellan watches him foot closer and she casts aside her top, the silver buttons making a gentle clink on the stone floor. 'Do it,' she breathes into his ear as he leans in closer, peppering her neck with his soft, warm lips.   
'Are you commanding me, Inquisitor?' he says through a kiss that turns into a bite. Lavellan curls her fingers, her eyelids flickering as he tugs at her skin.   
'I am,' she goads.  
Solas pulls away, pulls off his top and moves back towards his table. He pushes aside his scrolls and lifts a small, sealed jar. Lavellan watches him curiously, toying with her messy white braids.  
‘Paint you, you say?’ he says, approaching her slowly, twisting the top off the jar. Solas watches her nod, stretching her lithe arms high above her head, cocking her hips to the side. He always enjoyed her show; the way she stood, moved, talked, breathed, all just for him. It was a glorious, delectable sight. ‘Very well,’ he said, dropping the lid to the floor.  
That familiar, curious thrill jittered Lavellan’s heart as she saw that feral gleam shine through his eyes. Some days, it was what Lavellan lived for; that look, that feeling that only Solas could give her. She watched as he dipped his fingers within the jar, stepped forward and smeared it across her chest; it smelled sweet and rich; she wanted to taste.  
His rough hand covers her breasts with the sticky, dark paste and Lavellan moaned with each movement, each draw of his fingers, each nip of her skin. Solas leans forward, sliding his fingers across her neck; he follows up the motion with his tongue, over and over.  
‘You,’ he whispers into her ear, his breaths heavy, ‘are delicious.’  
Saga couldn’t stifle the gasp she drew in quick and loud at his words. Her hands, eager, sought his head and pulled him down for a kiss. He let her, for a moment, take charge. Their tongues met in unison and Lavellan tasted the sweet mix of hazelnut and cocoa off his tongue; she smiles through their kiss.  
‘Enough,’ he says quietly, pulling back from her embrace. The strangled moan that escapes her lips is almost too much. Solas falls to his knees, pinning her arms to the painted wall behind her, smearing the sweet mixture over her forearm. He draws his tongue along her breasts, resisting his eager hands. Saga was restless, desperate to touch; he had to keep her still, for the moment.   
And in that moment, he licks, hungrily, at her bare breast, taking off the sweet mixture he had painted across her skin. It smeared his lips, it covered her chest. He bites her nipple ring and tugs, hard. Solas tilts back his head, seeing the giddy sight of pleasure and pain etched across her face.  
Lavellan submits, her resistance against his hold, gone. Every time she passes that thread of control to Solas, it drives her wild. Solas recognises it, and he slides his hands from their grip, pulling free her tight trousers, the button ripping from the fabric. Lavellan throws back her head, welcoming the cool night air against her legs. With his thumbs pressed hard into her thighs, he pulls them apart, drawing his tongue along the inside of her thigh, nuzzling into the soft, taut flesh.   
He grabs the jar and dips his fingers in again. He takes a moment to breathe in her heady scent, seeing the wetness of her vagina already smear the inside of her thighs. Lavellan is whimpering, feeling his hot breath by her spot; so close. Without warning, he smears the sweet mixture all along her wet lips, curving his fingers between the folds, watching as her legs tremble, as her knees waver, barely able to carry her weight anymore.   
She cries out into the air, her voice resounding off the walls. Some of the ravens answer her cry of pleasure with their screeching caws; Lavellan hears nothing, all she hears is Solas, between her legs, licking hungrily at her vagina.  
His hands grips her thighs, resting them on his shoulders as he nuzzles into her wet folds, devouring the cocoa and her bittersweet juices. He wants to stop, to make her wait, to work for her pleasure; but the more she sings her languid, sprawling moans, the more eager his tongue becomes. He doesn’t stop; he doesn’t relent. Her fingers seek his ears, sliding along their curve, pinching the tip like she always does.   
His hands seek her behind, his long, strong fingers cupping her pert ass. His nails hook the flesh, pushing her closer, further into his face, letting her wet, warm folds devour his face. Lavellan gasps, slamming back her hands, trying to grip the wall for balance; Solas responds, settling a hand on her lower back, steadying his girl, his wanton, fiery vixen. She obeys, settling her hands back upon his ears.  
Solas feels her legs twitch by his ears; he knows the signs, he hears her music. She has no care for who hears, who sees, who knows. There is nothing else that matters except them, here, now. Lavellan breathes short, shallow, but for a moment she stops, throwing back her head, her tangled, braided hair cascading around her shoulders as she reaches her climax. Her legs twitch, brushing against his ears. She arches her back; revelling in the last few languid licks of his tongue; her words, her moans bounce off the walls, filling his ears with her beautiful music. Lavellan grips his shoulders, steadying her body.   
Solas dips her body, gently, laying her onto the cold, stone floor. He meets her breast with his tongue, licking off the last of the sweet cocoa and hazelnut paste, letting her enjoy the last few moments of her climax before he takes her mouth into a hot, sweet kiss, rubbing his finger beneath her eye, tracing the dark lines of her vallaslin.  
‘My beautiful little work of art,’ he coos into her ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe.   
Lavellan laughs, a gentle, melodic laugh that is beauty to his ears.


End file.
